


Take Me Home

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Cooking, Baking, Bets & Wagers, Gen, Post-Season/Series 07, Season/Series 07, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 13:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Shiro and Hunk make a bet over a game of pool, which Shiro loses.  His punishment is to make Hunk a pie.  He tries his best as they discuss the events of the previous few months.





	Take Me Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eastofthemoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eastofthemoon/gifts).



> This fic was a request!

Shiro stared down at himself in utter dismay.

Over the past several years, Shiro's body had been subject to more humiliations than he could have thought possible.  From the Arena to the Voltron Show, he'd been left scared and changed.

This might have been the worst.  Because it came from someone he trusted.  A friend.

"I think you're being a little dramatic."

Shiro just glared at Hunk and gestured to himself.  From the ridiculously tall chef's hat, the custom-made Voltron oven mitts, and the 'All the good science puns Argon' apron, he was covered in kitchen kitsch.

Hunk crossed his arms, unmoved.  "You knew what you were agreeing to when we made the bet.  Don't tell me you're going to back out because of an apron, Captain."

Grinding his teeth, Shiro took a deep breath and let it go.  "I'm not backing out." Though, if Hunk took pity on him, Shiro certainly wouldn't complain.

But Hunk was right.  Shiro had agreed to this over a game of pool in Atlas' officer lounge.  If Shiro had won, Hunk would have sat in on one of the Atlas budget meetings in Shiro's stead.  And if Hunk won, Shiro had to bake him a pie while wearing the appropriate gear.

It had been a simple bet.  Honestly, Shiro hadn't considered he'd lose.  Between his well trained grasp of geometry and the benefit of a floating right arm, Shiro had been certain he'd have a two hour break from monetary hand wringing.

But what Shiro hadn't considered was not only Hunk's own prodigious spacial awareness, but that Shiro’s new arm still didn't have the fine motor control of the last.  While Shiro had mastered writing and sparing with his new equipment, pool was an all new set of motions.

He'd lost.  Barely, but that didn't help him now.

Hunk just rolled his eyes at Shiro's open pout.  "You'll be fine. I was even nice and made the pie crust for you.  All you have to do is make the fillings and bake. It's a simple recipe, and I'll be sitting right here while you do it."

That would be more comforting if Hunk's presence was to aid, and not to smugly enjoy the fruits of his bet.

Shiro stared for one more second, hoping that Hunk would bend and allow him to at least remove the hat.

He had no such luck.

Sighing, Shiro snatched up the recipe off the counter and started to scan it.  For the first time in years, the ingredients were all familiar. There were no Altean substitutes and no Earth-alike plants.  

The first order of business was apparently a spice mixture and not apples.  Shiro frowned at that, but this piece of paper certainly knew better than him.  So he obligingly started to dig through cabinets until he found the spices.

As Shiro started to measure, he glanced back over his shoulder at Hunk.  He was leaning forward, chin braced on both his palms, looking utterly entertained by the mere presence of Shiro in his kitchen.

Great.  

"Did you have a good leave?" Shiro asked, just to break up Hunk's smug look.

Hunk's brows rose, but he nodded.  "Yeah. It's good to see my family again for a while.  Especially considering the state they were in when we arrived."  His expression fell, and his fingers scraped thoughtfully along the grain of the table.  "Things are different, of course. But they're settling back in at home, and hopefully they'll be good there."

Nodding, Shiro paused over the recipe and squinted at the label on the spices.  He'd- yes, he'd definitely mixed up the amounts of the cinnamon and the nutmeg. Ah, well.  He'd add more of the cinnamon and that would be fine. It was all fractions of a teaspoon anyway.  How bad could it be? "If you need more time with them, you only have to ask. Everyone will understand.  Lance and Pidge lucked out by having family here when we arrived, and Keith is obviously an exception."

"All of us are kind of exceptions," Hunk muttered.  But he shook his head. "Not yet. Maybe before we blast off for good I will, but with Yellow I can head over for an evening or the weekend.  It helps a lot."

Well, that would last for the next month or two, yes.  The actual process of taking Earth’s first real interstellar ship out into the universe for an alien goal was complex.  And, under the radar, the pieces of that robeast were still being collected and studied. Shiro would certainly feel better when they had a better idea of what made the latest model so absurdly powerful.  Anything that could match Voltron was bad news for them.

"Just run it by me or Keith if you change your mind," Shiro said.  He dumped in the sugar and flour into the spices and mixed it all together, trying not to feel silly.  What was the point of mixing all this up if he was just going to dump it into the pie anyway?

Hunk shot him a thumbs up and leaned back in his chair.  "Will do. How about you? I know you're busy, but you can probably get time off, right?  You've probably built up a ton of it over the past few years."

Snorting, Shiro shot Hunk a grin over his shoulder.  "Working on that. And my back pay. At this point the money is basically academic, but it's fun to watch the Garrison accountants squirm over giving it to me."  Then he stepped over the fridge to look for the actual apples. "My visiting is all done already. Where are the red apples?"

"Use the green ones."

Shiro pulled his head out of the fridge to frown.  "Aren't you supposed to use red apples?" Those were the ones he always saw on the boxes of the pre-made pies at the store or on TV.

But Hunk shook his head, back to smug grinning.  "Granny smith are better. Just try me and use them, alright?"  When Shiro sighed and obeyed, Hunk crossed his arms on the table and pillowed his head on that, clearly making a show of how comfortable and sedentary he was.  "I didn't know you took off when I did. Did you take two weeks like me?"

"Just one day."  Shiro used his floating prosthesis to reach across the kitchen and pull out a knife, then drew it back gently.  "I don't need very long for my visiting." 

Hunk stayed silent as Shiro started to peel and cut up the apples.  "Smaller pieces. You want them to cook in time.” He picked his head back up to watch.  “You only visited for a day? Shiro, you can take off longer than that. I promise we can hold down the fort without you."

Sighing, Shiro started to cut the apples up into smaller bits.  "I'm visiting graves, Hunk. The conversations don't take very long."

Horrified silence filled the kitchen, chilling the playful atmosphere.

"Oh," Hunk said.  Both his hands covered his mouth, and his eyes were wide with mortification.  "Shiro, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"I know you didn't.  I never told you all except for Keith, and that was years ago."  Shiro focused on the repetitive, simple task of preparing the apples so he wouldn't have to meet Hunk's gaze.  "It was part of why he trusted me to begin with, I think. I understood."

Hunk made a quiet, pained noise.  "And Lieutenant West, too."

Shiro flinched, the metal hand coming down so fast and hard that the knife nearly took off the top of one finger.  "Yes. Him too. Not that we would have been spending much time together. I'm surprised you remembered we were close."

"It was kind of a big deal when you guys split," Hunk admitted, tone apologetic and embarrassed.  "It was prime gossip about a teacher, and it involved you."

That would do it, yes.  Shiro's reputation and popularity among cadets was part of why the Garrison had kept trying to push him into a recruitment position full time.  Along with the medical reasons. It also gave him almost mythic status among the new students. Shiro had been somewhere between amused and discomforted by the constant whispers and stares.  That was part of why Keith's deliberate dismissal had been refreshing.

A chair scraped against the floor.  Hunk stepped in next to Shiro, close enough that their arms just barely brushed.  "So this whole time that we've been hanging out with our families, you've been alone?"

Shiro slammed down the knife again, this time on purpose.  "I can hardly be alone with Atlas and the entire crew. It's harder to get time alone, in fact.  Besides, Keith doesn't have family on Earth either, so it's hardly a unique situation."

"Except Keith has his mom, and Kolivan too."  Hunk watched as Shiro added lemon juice to the apple pieces and mixed it up with more force than necessary.  "And we've all been gone with our families a lot."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself when you all aren't around," Shiro replied, still not looking over.  His voice was clipped and just a touch too fast. "I've been managing for over two decades now, in fact."

Hunk sighed.  "I'm not- Shiro.  Please look at me."

Pulling the hat off his head, Shiro hesitated.  Then he finally straightened and controlled his expression, making it utterly blank as he looked at Hunk.

Only to be pulled into a sudden, firm hug.  "I'm sorry we didn't notice you were alone," Hunk said.  "We got carried away with being home and you fell between the cracks.  That's not fair."

Shiro stiffened under Hunk's firm hold.  He patted him stiffly on the shoulder. "Of course you were happy and focused on your families.  You hadn't seen them in so long. I don't expect you to give that up to worry about me. That's absurd."

"No, it's not."  Hunk set his jaw and pulled back to look Shiro in the eye.  "You're family too. It's no good of us to get so excited about blood family that we let each other fall aside.  Even if you're the Captain now, you're still part of Team Voltron. You were there for us, we should be there for you."

Something in Shiro's chest cracked and flaked away.  He closed his eyes hard, not against tears but the sudden swell of emotion.  "I said before I haven't been alone. I've been invited to dinner with the Holts several times, and I have lunch with Veronica often.  The MFE pilots are here a lot, and Atlas' bond is... different from Black's. More physically present."

There was a distant pulse, acknowledgement and fondness from far away, but it faded almost immediately.  Atlas was giving them as much privacy as possible, it seemed.

"The point is that  _ we _ forgot, and that's not okay."  Hunk set his jaw and put either hand on Shiro's shoulders.  "Come home with me this weekend."

Shiro stilled, eyes wide.  "I couldn't possibly-"

But Hunk snorted, loudly enough that it stopped Shiro completely. "It's not an imposition.  If anything, my little siblings would  _ die _ to have the Captain of the Atlas around.  The Yellow Lion got normal quickly, but you're still cool and novel.  And I know my family would love to grill you for stories. Lance can come too, my parents think he's hilarious."

Looking at the stubborn set of Hunk's jaw, Shiro slumped.  

They'd all grown so much in the past two years, but maybe Hunk the most dramatically.

"I'd like that," Shiro finally said.

Hunk beamed, and that made it worth it.  "Good. Now, I believe you still owe me pie."

"Yes, sir."

Smiling as well, Shiro got to work.  

He had to admit, with someone so close and attentive, he felt much warmer than before.


End file.
